Review Summary: Everybody wants to take me shopping.
If I were a more diligent reviewer, I would attempt to outline the position ‘Fright Makes Right’ takes with regard to the geopolitical landscape of post-9/11, iraq-invasion USA. I would try to situate ‘Fright Makes Right’ within the wave of stringently anti-patriotic punk that was dissatisfied with the intensification of right-wing rhetoric and jingoism (that I assume must have existed because otherwise, what were the punks doing honestly). I would try to back up such claims with references to the lyrics and the specific political events of the time, maybe even drawing comparisons to other acts who were also coursing along the same vein. I would do this with references and academic attention to detail, crafting thematic analyses that would make your eyes bleed with boredom. But alas, I am lazy. Furthermore, it all sounds like a lot of hard work for an album that is itself lazy, messy, ugly and sceptical of smart narratives.
‘Fright Makes Right’ opens with grand and triumphant horns, majestic and blaring, which almost immediately deteriorate into being ugly and blaring instead. It feels like an immediate inversion of the grand story of the USA; Instead of the triumphant, shining beacon of light and hope and opportunity we get a shapeless, formless din, unpleasant in its arrogance.
The titles seem to indicate such a position at least, as well as a certain amount of sass that taunts me that's also replicated in the lyrics 'you're gonna live a long life babyyyyyyyyy’. Song titles such as ‘Homeland’, ‘Give Peace A Chance’ and ‘Stars, Stripes, Whatever’ indicate a sort of mockingly ironic stance, a half-hearted declaration of ‘I couldn't care less about your self importance’.
Coughs came out of Chicago but released Fright Makes Right on Load Records, a label mainly known for spreading the irreverent noise rock of Providence, Rhode Island (see: Arab on Radar, Lightning Bolt and Six Finger Satellite). The label was a good fit for them. Fright Makes Right is dominated by primitive squawking and screeching, caveman drumming and the typical loud/quiet dynamic sensibilities of every alternative band ever since Pixies according to music journalists.
It's an ugly album that wants to sound as ugly as possible. Rhythmically it's all there. I can see a sort of ‘no wave’ sensibility, a preparedness to include any sound or idea with little disregard for genre. A free wielding of noise and silly guitars. Ugly and confrontational. Dismissive. Stars, stripes. Whatever.
